Pained By Emotions
by YonderB
Summary: Oneshot. The twins are tortured in the only way a program can. With emotions. In either POV of the twins. You decide.


Up.

Down.

Up.

Down.

Up.

Down.

It was like jumping. You always fell.

Why had The Merovingian done this to us?

Our stomach hurt. No matter how many times we phased, it didn't stop.

We just continued. It seemed normal, but it wasn't.

We felt sick. We didn't have a digestive tract, but we felt sick.

We collapsed against our other part, who was curled into a ball on the floor. We placed our cheek against their shoulder. Our face hurt.

Our whole body was aching. It wouldn't stop, but the Change would happen soon. Our other part was silent, pale ivory hands placed over an equally pale face.

The Merovingian had upgraded –or downgraded, which was how we felt– us, with _emotions_.

Terrible emotions.

As a torture for our failure.

He chose well.

It happened more than an hour ago. We survived the explosion and had moved to an empty shed to think of a way to continue our lives without The Merovingian, who, undoubtedly, would not accept our failure.

We were right, we were.

It was gradual.

We sat silently among the bails of hay, heads bowed, thoughtful eyes hidden behind dark glasses.

We felt a soft warmth glow inside of me, and we felt our other side darken slightly.

We giggled. Our other hunched in their place.

We laughed. Our other side removed our glasses and covered our face, tears streaming down our cheeks.

We fell from our seat and onto the floor, one of our ribs fracturing. We continued laughing. It was funny, we suppose.

Our other sobbed into our hands, screaming ourself hoarse.

It changed every fifteen minutes.

We would become sad, while our other became happy.

Then the other way around.

It was tiring.

We had never been tired. We were programs. We did not know of fatigue.

But, we became tired with the constant change. Physically tired. Mentally tired. We wanted it to stop. It hurt us.

It made us feel inferior to these... 'emotions' which we were not supposed to have.

It made us feel violated with these 'feelings' that overwrote our better judgement.

Make it stop.

We felt the body against ours relax as our own did. We stopped laughing, and our other stopped crying, giving us a few precious moments of indifference.

We shifted and pressed our nose in between our other's shoulders, eyes squeezed closed, unmoving tears stinging in our eyes, whole digital body aching, not wanting to move.

Our other raised a shaking hand and placed it behind ourself, touching our hand. A soothing motion. We hurt. Our other knew that. We both hurt the same.

We curled our own fingers around our other's. When would it end?

'Sadness' was a terrible thing. It would constrict the throat-area and make it hard to breathe, stinging tears would impair vision, and the stomach-area would tighten.

We felt our own throat constrict and eyes well with tears. It was our turn.

'Happiness' hurt more, we thought. It overruled all other mechanisms of the brain, and would continue until stopped, and would find how much damage was done to the vulnerable physical body whilst preoccupied with the feeling. Cramped muscles, hyperventilation, spasms, watering eyes, raw trachea.

We felt our other giggle in front of us, and our grip tightened on them.

Stop. Please.

Tears streamed down our faces. Of both laughter and sadness. We felt nauseous.

We struggled to our feet, hand leaving our other's, screaming in anguish that we did not want to have, and we turned shakily away from our other, to have our knees buckle underneath us and for us to retch.

We threw up all over the dirt and hay.

We threw up food and stomach-acids that was not ours.

We knelt, panting over the abomination of not-liquid and not-solids, searing hot tears streaming down our cheeks to mix with them. It smelt bad.

We screamed. Our other laughed.

Our voices melded together perfectly. We were shrieking for help. None came.

Time dragged by. We laughed, cried, screamed, giggled. We did everything.

Help us.

Finally, we lay, on our back, letting out choked sobs, tears falling from our eyes to mingle with our dreads, body seizing at sporadic intervals. We didn't know how much time had passed. We stopped counting the Changes after we lost count at 'fifteen'.

Our other lay on our front a little way away from us, face inches from the dirty ground, damp with tears, elbows supporting us. Our other's laughing was dwindling.

We stopped sobbing, a few stray tears sliming down our cheeks, our other stopped laughing, a few fresh giggles slipping from our lips, then, we collapsed, our cheek meeting the damp hard ground with a sharp noise. It hurt us, when our cheek hit the ground, but we couldn't tell.

Our bodies hurt so much. We couldn't tell.

We couldn't tell at all.

Breathing hurt. Blinking hurt. Moving hurt.

We needed to none of them, but when we stayed still, it hurt more.

We heard a groan beside us, and we looked at our other, who was slowly pushing our hand toward us. We tried the same, and flinched.

Our body was led. We couldn't move it. So heavy, and hurting so much.

We moved our hand anyway, dragging it against the harsh ground, flat against the damp dirt, reaching toward our other.

Our fingertips touched, but we could go no further.

Our right hand, and our other's left.

... Or was it the other way around?

We were getting confused. This only happened when...

We shakily moved our head so we could see our other.

We stared at each other.

Our Code was flickering over our bodies.

Artificial green over silver.

An aristocratic, manicured tanned finger paused over a single button.

Our other smiled at us. A soft, small smile. An innocent one. A reassuring one.

We were together. That is all that mattered.

The Merovingian had had his fun. He was finished now.

We smiled back.

The aristocratic finger pressed down on the single key purposefully, keeping it down for a second, before retreating, revealing the single word written across the key.

_DELETE_

((END. Have I confused you completely and utterly because of all the 'we' and 'our' stuff? Yes? Good. This basically wrote itself, because whenever I try to write a humor or something less-than-serious with the Twins in it, I get through half of the first sentence, and I can't go any further. Anyway, I hope you liked it! If you want to tell me which twin you think this is in the POV of, I'd love to know!))


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